


Black And Blue

by Cerdic519



Series: Austentatious [10]
Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen, Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Childbirth, Crobby - Freeform, Cuddling & Snuggling, Destiel - Freeform, Devonshire, England (Country), F/F, F/M, Inheritance, London, M/M, Minor Character Death, Napoleonic Wars, Omega Castiel, Past Infidelity (not Dean or Castiel), Period Typical Attitudes, Pregnant Castiel, References to Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: A sequel to mySense and SensibilityDestiel (again, apologies to Jane Austen). It is 1811, nearly two decades after the French Revolution plunged Europe into a war that plods steadily nowhere. It is also nearly two years on from the wedding of Castiel Dashwood and Dean Ferrers, and what remains of the latter is now the proud father of an alpha son Scaden, with a second child on the way. As Great Britain enters the Regency Period, the Ferrers and Dashwood families prepare to come to London for a Grand Ball (or two, because two balls are always better than one) - but Fate has a few surprises in store.





	1. Family Matters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Willbakefordean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willbakefordean/gifts), [Wolfy04](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfy04/gifts), [Misha_is_my_spirit_animal78](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misha_is_my_spirit_animal78/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. As the interminable war with France rumbles ever onwards, Monseigneur Castiel Ferrers is some three months into his second pregnancy, and at that stage when he demands... well, Dean loves his omega dearly, though he might love him a little bit more if he would stop demanding sex every few minutes of the waking day! Even an alpha's stamina has limits! Nevertheless, the couple's lives at Delaford are settled and comfortable - until an unexpected visitor calls....

May 1811

Castiel Ferrers walked across the parsonage's main room and sat down carefully on the couch. Dean watched from what he hoped was a safe distance, then approached nervously. Not that his mate was at all temperamental during his pregnancies....

A pair of blue eyes glared warningly at him, and Dean was reminded of the omega's freakish mind-reading abilities. He gulped, then offered forward the plate.

“Honeyed bread?” he said, trying a winning smile. Castiel narrowed his eyes at him, but accepted the gift with a heavy sigh.

“Honestly, I think I am preparing to birth a whale!” he grumbled, patting his only slightly distended stomach. “Or something as big as the Prince of Wales. Six more months and I will need a winch and pulley to get up the stairs.”

Dean opened his mouth to remark that his husband had been almost as grouchy and bad-tempered during his first pregnancy, but fortunately for certain parts of his anatomy opted to very quickly close it again. He was wondering if there was anything he could safely say when there was a knock at the door.

“We are not expecting anyone?” Castiel asked. Dean shook his head.

“I will go”, he said. “Peg is out the back, putting out the washing.”

His mate smiled at him, and tried to shift to a more comfortable (or less uncomfortable) position. He should not have been this large just three months in, he was sure, even if Pamela Barnes had assured him at her last visit that everything was fine.

Dean left the room and walked down the hallway to the front door. Outside was a tall, thin and rather straggly young beta, possibly some twenty years of age, although his general pallor made it hard to tell.

“I am looking for a Mr. Dean Ferrers?” he said, looking decidedly nervous. “They said that he lives here?”

Dean eyed him suspiciously. He tried not to go all possessive alpha as regarded his pregnant mate, because Castiel either got annoyed or found it incredibly hot, and either way his husband would end up regretting it.

“I am he”, he said cautiously. “Who are you, sir?”

“My name is Adam Milligan”, the beta said, his eyes clearly lighting up at his success in finding his target. “My mother was Catherine Milligan.”

Dean was confused.

“Well, that is all well and good”, he said, “but....”

“And my father was John Ferrers.”

Dean just stared at him.

+~+~+

It was not just his protective instincts that were making Dean twitchy. He knew that the man before him, even had he been in better shape, would have been no threat, but the alpha remained next to his mate and kept one hand on Castiel at all times. The omega placed his hand over Dean's and rubbed it gently, before turning back to their visitor.

“You say that you are Dean's half-brother”, he said. “Do you have any proof of that claim? I am sorry to have to ask, but in the circumstances....”

“No, I understand”, Adam said, fumbling inside his thin coat. He produced a letter which he unfolded and placed on the table between them. Dean appreciated that he had been wise enough to not come any nearer than was necessary, and took the letter. He read it slowly.

“Dean?” Castiel asked after a few moments.

The alpha sighed.

“It is true”, he said. “My father, useless to the last, admits it here. This is his writing; it has those pretentious 'fs' endings he used. And I would know that signature scrawl anywhere.”

“May we ask what you want of us?” Castiel asked. 

“My mother died last month”, Adam said miserably. “I am a beta, but all I have is my mother's sister Aunt Emma, and her husband does not like me. He wanted to put me in the Indigents' Home in Exeter, so I fled. I went to Barton Ferrers – I knew that was where my fa.... where John Ferrers came from, and a lady there told me where you were now.”

“Dean”, Castiel said firmly, “I want you to take Adam over to see Luke and Gabriel. They will have a spare place somewhere on the estate for him.” He turned back to Adam. “Unfortunately Gabriel – my brother – is six months pregnant, otherwise he would as surely put you up in Delaford House as I would welcome you here. But I am sure that you appreciate the problems of an alpha and a pregnant omega.”

“Of course”, Adam said, looking relieved. “Um, I shall wait outside, then.”

He was clearly a little perplexed that it was the omega who was in charge here, but said nothing. Castiel smiled as he left and waited until he heard the front door sound before speaking.

“Never mind, Dean”, he said consolingly. “I am sure that I can find some way to make it up to you once you return from having sorted out accommodation for the boy. Let you remind everyone that you are the alpha.”

Dean may or may not have puffed out his chest at that. Yes, he was the alpha here, not some whipped husband who did every single thing that his omega ordered him to. And if he kept telling himself that, then perhaps one day he might actually start believing it.

Castiel was giving him a Look again. Dean drew a ragged breath. It was going to have to be a very quick run up to the great house.

+~+~+

“A half-brother?” Samandriel asked, surprised. “And Dean never knew?”

“He has taken Adam down to see Mary and Frank today”, Castiel said. “I suppose that given the character of his father, such an eventuality might have been foreseen. John Ferrers left a letter of acknowledgement with the boy's mother, and she gave it to her sister for safe-keeping. Adam only found out when his mother died.”

“Poor boy”, Samandriel said sympathetically.

“He is technically a man”, Castiel said, “though his life of late had left him looking in poor shape. But we shall soon fix that. Luke, of course, said that he was as good as family and has found him a cottage and a job on the estate. He is quiet, but I think he may come out of himself once he is settled in. And talking of people being quiet, how is Mother?”

“Still not herself”, Samandriel sighed. “I wonder if it may have something to do with that Iacobus Black, Lady Amara's... well, whatever he was. Did you know that Mother attended his funeral?”

Castiel was surprised, to say the least. That was very unusual. Their mother hated funerals; she had even not wanted to attend that of her late husband.

“Nearly two years here, and the valley gossips have found out precisely nothing about him”, Samandriel sniffed. “Unusually inefficient of them, I would say!”

Castiel chuckled.

“By the by”, he said, “in answer to the question you put to me last time, yes. Dean and I are going to London for the Regency Ball.”

His brother looked at him in surprise.

“In your condition?” he asked dubiously.

“I am only three months gone”, Castiel smiled, “although I feel more like five. I have found out that because the Regent dislikes long evenings, there are in fact to be two balls. On the seventeenth – that is a Monday – there is a Grand Ball at Buckingham Palace, where all those who wish to be presented in the royal presence can so be. And two days later there is the Regency Ball itself, at Carlton House, to which we are amongst the select few to be invited. Or at least representing Bobby, who was invited.”

His brother looked at him hopefully. Castiel stared back in apparent confusion.

“Do not tease me!” Samandriel snapped. “Well?”

Castiel maintained a straight face for some little time before he allowed himself a smile.

“It may be possible that a young relation of one member of the Ferrers party may just be presented at the first....”

“Yes!”

+~+~+

“The Spanish are a useless bunch!” Inias told Castiel when he called round later that same day. “They invite several hundred thousand French troops into their country, then act all surprised when they suddenly turn round and say they are taking over. And now apparently they are so desperate, they are training gorillas to attack the enemy!”

Castiel shook his head at his fellow omega.

“You really must buy a better quality of newspaper, Inias”, he chided. “Not gorillas, but guerrillas. It is their word for 'little war', and refers to fighters who, instead of taking on the French directly – which we have seen seldom ends well – choose to attack their supply lines and isolated units.”

“Oh”, Inias said, blushing. “That sounds more reasonable.”

“So”, Castiel smiled, “how did your date with Captain Neville go?”

Inias blushed.

“He was... nice”, he said staring fixedly at the carpet. 

“Nice?” Castiel echoed. His friend's face reddened even further.

“His father is buying him out of the army”, Inias said.

Castiel was surprised. He knew little about Fitzalan Neville, save that he was an acknowledged illegitimate son and that this was the third time he had dated his friend since his arrival in the valley a few months back. He also knew that his friend's scent was changing, which augured well for the relationship. 

“His father is the Earl of Eden”, Inias said. “The earl had two sons by his wife who has since passed, but one of them was killed recently out in Spain and the other is also in the army. I think he is readying Fitz 'just in case'; he wants to make him Lord Appleby.”

“They are a rich family”, Castiel observed. “An offshoot of the Westmorland Nevilles, but I know that the earl has done well with some of these new factories that are appearing everywhere.” He grinned before adding, “so you will be a laird like Crowley?”

“Ugh!”

Castiel laughed. 

“And you will have your own alpha to boss around”, he promised. “It is 'hard' work.”

“Double ugh!” his friend protested. “Castiel!”

Castiel laughed again.

“Talking of Crowley, I wish that Bobby was coming with us to London”, Castiel said. “But after his mate had that fall, I can understand why an alpha husband would be anxious.”

Inias sighed heavily and stared hard at the carpet. Castiel looked at him in confusion, then winced in sympathy.

“Ugh!” he echoed.

Now they both knew just how Laird Crowley had had his 'fall'.

+~+~+

The following day brought heavy dark cloud pressing down along the whole length of the valley. Dean took Castiel out for a ride in the barouche, and tried not to fuss to much when they stopped at the restaurant in town. He also pointedly ignored the semi-obscene gesture from Jo Harvelle that suggested he was totally under his omega's thumb. It may have been true, but Dean did not need to be reminded of it.

“Well, you have chosen a busy day to grace our humble town with your noble selves, kind sirs”, she said, coming over to take their order. 

“What has happened?” Castiel asked, smiling at his husband as Dean handed him a second cushion.

“For one, Lord Hemyock has died.”

Both men looked at her in surprise.

“He was not that old?” Dean asked. “I thought he was barely past fifty?”

“Nevertheless, it is so”, Jo told him. “And here is the thing; it happened last week in London, and the prime minister has already set the date for a by-election, three weeks from now.”

That did not surprise Dean as much. The Tory government of Spencer Perceval was shaky to say the least, and it was predictable that he would want to replace a member of parliament who had supported him before the Whig opposition could organize themselves.

“I suppose that it will fall to Bobby now to choose a Tory candidate”, Castiel said thoughtfully. “Or at least express a preference for one.”

He did not continue, for which Dean was grateful. Herbert Hemyock had been a friend of his late father, and had been elected about ten years ago when Dean's family had still owned Barton Park. The alpha did not need yet another reminder of his father's fecklessness. Castiel had insisted that he go over and check up on Adam early on 'to show fraternal solidarity' as he had put it. Dean had not wanted to go, but Castiel had insisted and.....

He really was totally under his omega's thumb. Damnation!

“But he is not the only one”, the waitress continued. “Yesterday Lady Amara sent for Father Theobald, the Catholic priest, and Charlie says that she is not long for this world. Poor woman.”

That had been the other surprising development of recent years, in that Lady Amara had not only recovered from the shock of her favourite nephew's 'betrayal' (the similar actions of her other nephew soon after had possibly helped), but had seemingly come to accept what had happened, and had even invited Dean and Castiel to one of her At Homes. The valley had been buzzing over speculation as to who would inherit her twenty thousand plus estate, especially since the death of the mysterious Iacobus Black.

“Damnably inefficient of Charlie not to find out more about him”, Joanna grumbled. “By the way, we are out of pie.”

Dean's lower lip may or may not have quivered. Very slightly.

“Jo”, Castiel said firmly. “Do not tease Dean. Dean needs pie. Give Dean pie.”

Dean looked gratefully across at his mate. 

“But only a small piece”, the omega continued with a smile, “as he had a whole extra pie last week that he somehow 'forgot' to tell me about.”

The alpha folded his arms and huffed indignantly.

+~+~+

They had just finished their meal when Charlie and Dorothy bustled into the restaurant. A single look at the two glum faces told them. The mistress of Dark Barton had gone to meet her Maker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main royal palace at this time was St. James' Palace, close to Buckingham Palace; foreign ambassadors to the United Kingdom are still accredited 'to the Court of St. James' today. Carlton House, part of the St. James complex, was a separate grand building in which the Regent lived. When he finally became King George IV in 1820, he decided to upgrade Buckingham Palace instead, and Carlton House was demolished. George was wasteful like that.


	2. Due Process

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2\. To the surprise of many, Lady Amara's will is to be read out at her London house, and to the surprise of a certain blue-eyed pregnant omega, his presence is required. Reconciliation is in the air as Dean plans to see his brother for the first time in a long while, but events conspire to wreck the best-laid plans of just about everyone. The journey to London draws nigh, and everyone prepares for the revelation of Darkside's new owner.

There were few certainties in this world, but one such was that Mr. Dean Ferrers had not spoken to his brother Samuel since the tumultuous events of some twenty months past, when the moose had successfully disinherited his elder brother, only to over-reach in his ambition and fall flat on his face. The consequence of those events was that Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Ferrers lived in a (pitifully) small house in Barton Parva, a hamlet whose few houses lay a little way south of Dark Barton just off the main Bristol to Exeter coach road. So small was it, in fact, that the coaches did not officially call at the small inn on the main road near there, and although they would stop to let passengers on or off if required, these people had to pay to or from the next stop back.

It might have been thought that Mary Devereux would have banged her sons' heads together over this matter, and Dean had very much feared that she would indeed have forced him and his brother to hiss and make up. However, Castiel had explained the whole matter to her very thoroughly, and she had desisted. It was, perhaps, faintly ridiculous that Dean had to time his visits to dinner at his mother's and step-father's house to avoid those of his brother, but he still felt raw about the betrayal and the betrayal of his own blood. Despite Castiel's claims of being happy with the living at Delaford, Dean could have given his precious omega so much more.

His precious omega yawned and glanced around the table, presumably looking for yet more bacon, then looked crest-fallen when there was none. Lord, but Dean loved this man so much!

They were due to set off for the capital in two days' time, and Castiel was, as usual, wonderfully organized. Dean would have been grateful, but that period of the pregnancy when the omega wanted to be mated a dozen times a day – well, Dean thought himself a prize specimen of an alpha, but lately he had taken to grabbing naps whenever he could to try to recharge his batteries before he got the next Look. 

It was fortunate that he was merely lying on the couch resting his eyes when they had a visitor. It was Sir Robert Middleton. At least he would respect Dean's status as the alpha in the house.

“Glad to see your omega has left you in one piece, then”, the old man grinned. 

Dean decided that he really did not like him much after all. He would have frowned, but sudden facial movements called for a lot of effort.

“I brought the formal invitation over”, Sir Robert told them, “although you should not need it to gain entry to either event. And I had an idea I wanted to discuss with you both.”

“Thank you for this”, Castiel smiled, taking the invitation. “How is poor Crowley?”

“Grumbling at being kept in the house”, the nobleman grinned. “Not that he is fond of the great outdoors, but you know how being denied something makes you want it all the more.”

“I wonder if that would work with Dean and pie?” Castiel mused. 

His husband looked horrified. Their visitor muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'whipped', but looked innocently at Dean when his fellow alpha glared at him.

“Anyway”, the nobleman said, “the reason I called was because of old Herbie Hemyock. Collapsing face-down in the blancmange, poor man.”

“Yes, some desserts can be dangerous”, Castiel agreed, earning himself a glare from Dean as well. His husband huffed his displeasure, and Sir Robert grinned.

“As you know, our esteemed prime minister wants a fast by-election before his Whig rivals can get organized”, Sir Robert said. “Normally he would have had to have waited a couple of months, but under one of the laws passed by his predecessor, smaller seats like Three Bartons can vote in three weeks if the total electorate is under one hundred.”

“It is palpably unfair that so few people get to vote”, Castiel said frowning, “and for that matter that the new industrialized towns of the North have no voice in parliament whilst our own area is over-represented. But I suppose we must work with what we have, for now. Do you have a candidate in mind?”

Sir Robert seemed strangely nervous.

“I thought..... Sam”, he said quietly.

Dean was surprised at that, although on reflection he could see the logic behind such a move. Although being a member of parliament did not pay, it opened the door to the sort of higher society that his brother – and definitely that ghastly wife of his – so openly aspired to. They might even move away to London....

“An interesting choice”, Castiel said, watching his husband carefully. “It was good of you to run it by us like this. What do you think, Dean?”

“Would Sammy be happy being a Tory?” Dean asked doubtfully. “They are the ones opposing change, after all.”

“Party loyalties are not set in stone”, Sir Robert said. “Besides, I rather suspect that sooner or later, the pressure for some sort of reform will be too much even for the Tories to resist, especially once this war is over. It is only a matter of time.”

“One day even omegas and women will be allowed to vote”, Castiel said confidently. “The human race would not exactly get far without us.”

“I have spoken to your brother”, Sir Robert said, “and I really think that he would welcome your blessing for the idea.”

“It is totally Dean's choice”, Castiel said firmly. “Dean?”

The alpha sighed. His brother's betrayal still hurt on a visceral level, but he supposed that this was all for the best.

“I will call on him and let him know that I will back him”, he said reluctantly. “Tomorrow.”

The other men smiled at him. Unfortunately things were not going to be that easy....

+~+~+

“Mr. Foxcott, Lady Amara's local lawyer, is a mean man!” Charlie grumbled. 

It was the following day. Dean was on his way to his brother's house in Barton Parva, dreading the encounter that would ensue there. He had stopped off in the town for reinforcement (pie). And yes, he had asked his mate's permission, and no, that did not mean that he was whipped!

“Why?” he asked his friend.

“He has said that Dorothy is a named beneficiary in the will and must attend the reading, but he will not tell her how much she is getting.”

“Disgusting”, Dean agreed. “Someone not telling Miss Charlene Steele what she wants to know!”

“Is Castiel allowing you extra pie?” Joanna teased as she came to their table. Dean groaned when he saw that she would not hand him the delicious dessert until he answered.

“I am not totally at my omega's beck and call”, he said starchily. 

Both ladies seemed to be taken with sudden fits of coughing. He glared at them, then sighed.

“He said that, as I was prepared to make up with Sam, I could have one extra slice”, he grumbled. 

“I can check”, Joanna grinned.

“Damnation, woman, give me pie!”

The waitress chuckled, but handed the dish over. Dean sighed contentedly and did not grab the dish or fold himself around it protectively, whatever anyone said.

+~+~+

He had finished it and was looking mournfully at the dish in the hope that there might be seconds, when the shop bell rang. A tall and distinguished blond alpha entered; he was about thirty years of age, and walked with a stick that he clearly needed more than for just effect. Dean looked at him in surprise.

“Phil?” he said uncertainly. The other alpha smiled wearily.

“Hello, Dean”, he said, running a hand through his already thinning hair. “I hope this place does good food, because I need the energy.”

+~+~+

As if he needed it, the newcomer's advent brought yet another reminder of the fecklessness of his late and un-lamented father to Dean. It had been John Ferrers who, when as so often in his cups, had blurted out to all and sundry that his (soon to be ex-)friend Phineas Steele had an illegitimate son, which had severely damaged Mr. Steele's burgeoning political career as well as his reputation in the valley. Fortunately the boy Philoctetes had grown into the fine young man before Dean now, who according to his last letter was already following his late father into the political arena. He had been bequeathed a house and a handsome allowance by his late father, something (Dean remembered) that had drawn the ire of Ruby. Then again, what did not?

He told his friend his own news whilst the latter ate his meal. After he had eaten and thanked Joanna profusely, his friend began.

“So you were headed out to make your peace with your brother”, he said heavily. “It is perhaps just as well that I chanced to run into you first. I would wager that Barton Parva is a hornets' nest just now.”

“Why?” Dean asked. “What has happened?”

“You said that Sir Robert Middleton is to nominate your brother as the Tory candidate for the Three Bartons, electorate sixty-eight”, Philoctetes said.”

“Yes?”

The other alpha took a deep breath.

“I suppose Perceval assumed that, as the Whigs have no real leader at the moment, they would be unable to organize any opposition”, he said. “But Lord Grey contacted me as soon as he heard, knowing my family's connections with the area. He could not know, of course, that your brother would be chosen as the Tory candidate.”

Realization dawned on Dean. He gulped. The other alpha nodded.

“Yes”, he said. “I am the Whig candidate for Three Bartons. And when my half-sister Ruby found out – well, you can imagine her and her husband's reactions!”

“Indeed.”

+~+~+

“I would hazard”, Castiel said some time later, “that your brother did not take today's developments too well.”

“He was absolutely furious”, Dean sighed. “It was the Disinheritance Mega-Sulk all over again. And when I said that, since Phil was my friend, I could hardly campaign against him – well, he all but threw me out of the house.”

“More fool him”, Castiel said shortly. 

“It did not help that Bobby will not campaign for him either”, Dean said. “Phil was very kind to Crowley that time he came down here, and Bobby has said that whilst he is prepared to nominate Sammy, he can do no more. My brother was very angry.”

Castiel said nothing. Dean looked at him curiously; his omega was always caring and receptive when Dean needed the sort of attention that alphas did not usually need. Why.....

Then he caught his omega's face. Castiel had that Look again.

Certain of Dean's body parts started drafting a formal letter of complaint.

+~+~+

Castiel had been secretly dreading the trip to London, a four hundred mile round trip in an uncomfortable coach. Dean, however, had a surprise for him.

“Rufus and Ross have been installing some of those new suspension things on my barouche”, he said, felling warm inside at the happy look that his omega was giving him. “If they work, you should get jogged a lot less than before.”

“That would be nice”, Castiel sighed. “Pamela Barnes says that I am doing fine, but I still feel bloated.”

If truth be told Dean Ferrers was a little uncomfortable with Castiel relying on a female who was not a proper doctor, even if everyone trusted Pamela Barnes. And he was not too scared of her to tell her that, whatever anyone said. 

“We start tomorrow”, he said, “so I thought a short ride to town and back to test it out today.”

He said nothing else, but just looked hopefully at his husband. Castiel sighed.

“If it works”, he said. “If, then you can have a small slice of pie in town....”

“Yes!”

+~+~+

It worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spencer Perceval had taken over the premiership when the government of Lord Portland, which covered the first story in this series, had collapsed towards the end of 1809. Surprisingly in view of how weak it was, his premiership was still going eighteen months later. It would end in shocking circumstances; in May 1812, the year after this story is set, Perceval became the first and (thus far) only prime minister to be assassinated, by a disgruntled businessman called Henry Bellingham.   
> And yes, the Lord Charles Grey mentioned as a Whig leader was the one of tea fame. He would go down in history for his premiership (1830-4) which saw the passing of the Great Reform Act, the first real electoral reform in Great Britain. His tea was brewed using bergamot oil because the strong taste helped offset the lime in the waters serving Howick Hall, the Grey family home in Northumberland.


	3. Heir Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3\. Lady Amara de Noir's will is read, and there are surprises a-plenty. Someone doesn't get what they thought was coming to them, someone does get what they didn't expect, and karma is, ahem, a not-nice female personage. Preparations are put in hand for the first of the two Grand Balls, since having two balls is always better than just one.

It was just over a week later, and Castiel, Dean and their party were settling in at Middleton House. Their departure had been delayed by a day owing to Gabriel Brandon suffering a stomach bug, which Doctor Barnes diagnosed as excess sweet consumption. The wailing and crying that that had brought forth had been..... well, pretty much entirely foreseeable. The Brandons had not been planning to come to London anyway, what with Gabriel being only three months away from giving birth, but Castiel had not wanted to leave Devonshire until his brother was well again.

Castiel was more than a little concerned about his mother, who Samandriel confirmed had of late been in more of a dream world than usual. She had even stopped writing stories, and whilst this was in itself probably not a bad thing, it was hitherto unknown. Castiel had fretted, partly because he had no idea just what was wrong with her (Dean had 'kindly' offered to write a list if he was given a spare few hours, and had received a punch in the kidneys for his pains). 

The Dashwoods had travelled up in Sir Robert's coach with Charlie, Dorothy and young Adam Milligan. Castiel supposed that the young beta could have come with his half-brother, but they all knew how possessive Dean was becoming as the pregnancy progressed. He growled instinctively at anyone who came to close to his mate, regardless of gender or type, although Castiel rather enjoyed his possessiveness. Besides, if the alpha went too far, then the omega could make sure he 'paid' for it later.

+~+~+

Two days after their arrival, Castiel had to go to the reading of Lady Amara's will. The instructions he had been given were that he could bring his mate if he so wished; the clear implication being that Dean was not to be forgiven enough to actually get anything himself. What did surprise Castiel, however, was that when the time came to go to the solicitor's, his mother had been invited too. He was absolutely certain that she had had no connection whatsoever with the departed _grande dame_. What was going on?

Wyndham, Frobisher and Cottam-Hughes occupied a small but plush building in Mayfair, and Castiel's heart dropped when he saw a familiar carriage parked outside the main entrance. It was that of his step-brother Lord Raphael, which almost certainly meant that Lady Lilith would not be far (enough) away. He shuddered, and his alpha immediately drew closer to him as the five of them entered. 

Sure enough, Lord Raphael and Lady Lilith were sat along one side of a hideously expensive looking table. The solicitor, an alpha who introduced himself as the senior partner Mr. Wyndham, welcomed Castiel's party, whilst Lady Lilith looked down her nose at them. Charlie sat next to Dorothy, and the others took the seats opposite their relatives. Dean may or may not have growled (he did), and Castiel may or may not have enjoyed his half-brother shuffling his chair back slightly.

“I will not keep you long”, the solicitor assured them. “The will is simple enough, and not counting the three minor bequests to servants, all but one of the beneficiaries are here today. Mr. Christian Campbell has, I understand, been unavoidably delayed by a private matter in Scotland and is unable to attend, but his bequest too is only a minor one. Miss Dorothy Gale is to receive four thousand pounds, net.”

Dorothy gasped.

“That seems unduly generous”, Lady Lilith snapped. The solicitor starred at her.

“Lady de Noir considered Miss Gale's inheritance to be insufficient for a ward of hers”, he said. “I should add, Miss Gale, that the money is tied up for some twenty years, during which you will only be able to receive interest from it, at a little under thirty pounds per month. Lady de Noir also bequeathed one thousands pounds to you, Miss Bradbury, on the same terms and yielding approximately eight pounds per month. She said that she knew that you had money of your own, and that you were, ahem, in a relationship with someone who was quite well provided for.”

Both girls blushed.

“Now”, the solicitor said, “onto the main part of the will. I should warn you that some of what I am about to say will come as a surprise to more than one of you. Lady Amara de Noir left the Darkside estate, and various funds and investments totalling, after the bequests aforementioned, slightly in excess of forty-one thousand pounds.”

“How much?” Dean asked, shocked. “We all thought it was less than half that.”

“I rather believe that that was what Lady de Noir wished you to think”, the solicitor said dryly. 

Castiel noted that Lady Lilith seemed unusually smug for some reason, and decided that yes, he could dislike her even more.

“As some of you are aware”, Mr. Wyndham continued, “Lady Amara de Noir was born Miss Marianne Dashwood. She was the elder sister of Lord Charles Dashwood, and therefore aunt to both Lord Raphael Dashwood and to Monseigneur Ferrers.”

Castiel stared in shock. Dean took his hand and squeezed it slightly. The solicitor continued.

“Back in 1768 and shortly before her twentieth birthday, Miss Dashwood eloped with one Mr. Kirrin Penmarrick, youngest son of Lord Hugh Penmarrick, the government minister. His family strongly objected to his choice, and after some searching the couple was found and the marriage forcibly dissolved. Lady Amara, as she became later, married in turn Mr. Theophilius Backwell, Sir Reginald Hanover, Lord Ferrin du Noir and finally Mr. Nathaniel Ferrers, through whom she became aunt to Mr. Dean Ferrers. No issue arose from any of those four unions. Most unusually in this day and age, she retained her financial independence through each marriage, which was how she amassed such a huge sum of money.”

“And we know what that means!” Lady Lilith crowed. “No heirs, so all her money goes back to her nearest family member, which is us!”

She sat back triumphantly. Castiel noted that Mr. Wyndham had the look of someone who was about to enjoy something rather more than might be considered seemly.

“Actually”, the solicitor said with a slight smile, “it is not.”

“What?” Lady Lilith's voice resounded like a whip-crack.

“The couple's elopement remained undetected for a period of thirteen months”, the solicitor explained. “During that time, there was a child. Lady Amara took measures to ensure that if – when they were found, then the child's existence would remain a secret. He was entrusted to a family friend of the young man, and raised in ignorance of his birthright. The responsibility became solely that of Lady Amara when Mr. Kirrin Penmarrick died at sea shortly before he was about to be forced to marry someone else. There were, as I am sure you remember, strong suspicions that he took his own life.”

“But who is this bastard child?” Lady Lilith demanded. “This is an outrage!”

“I have checked all the official papers”, the solicitor said, “and every link in the chain is sound. You may, of course, choose to challenge the will in court, my lady, but it is my considered opinion that you would lose. You are, of course, perfectly entitled to spend as much of your own money as you wish to try to obtain an alternative legal opinion.”

She scowled and folded her arms.

“The young man was, as I have said, brought up in ignorance of his past”, the solicitor continued, “partly because Lady Amara's financial success meant that she had now adopted her nephew, Mr. Dean Ferrers here, as her 'official' heir. She had more than enough money to make both her son and nephew very rich, but when first Mr. Ferrers displeased her and his younger brother followed suit very soon after, she decided to settle everything on her blood son. However, by that time, there had been further developments.”

They were all watching him in stunned silence.

“Shortly before the dreadful French Revolution”, the solicitor said heavily, “someone talked. Lord Penmarrick became aware that there may have been a child, a grandson of his, and since his own blood-line had failed he started making inquiries. Lady Amara was, as so often in her life, one step ahead; she had the boy moved to the estate of a friend of hers many miles away. She even went to the trouble of officially changing the young man's name. Originally Mr. Michael Collins, he then became Mr. James, or Iacobus, Black. According to the records Mr. Michael Collins died in Plymouth some years ago; those records were of course faked, but they succeeded in convincing Lord Penmarrick that his search was pointless.”

Castiel began to feel uneasy. He had a sense that he knew where this story was heading.

“Mr. Black moved to work on a rich estate in the South of England”, the solicitor said, “and as sometimes happens, he fell in love with the lady of the manor. Unfortunately the lady's husband was at that time undergoing an episode when he drifted away from the world in general and his wife in particular. There was also a significant age difference between the couple, and... well, I am sure you can all guess what unfolded. She became pregnant with Mr. Black's child, so that child, born the following year, is the grandson of Lady Amara de Noir and, since Mr. Black's recent death, heir to virtually her entire estate. The child was, of course, successfully passed off as being that of the lady's husband. I must add that as he is Lady Amara's named beneficiary in the will, the legality or otherwise of his birth is irrelevant.”

“I will bet it is that old duffer Kilstead over at Wisborough Hall”, Lord Raphael scoffed. “He is always away with the færies, and his wife is a right tart!”

Mr. Wyndham coughed.

“The estate in question was Norland Park”, he said heavily, turning to Castiel's mother. “And the lady in question was you. Mrs. Rebecca Dashwood.”

Everyone's eyes turned to Castiel's blushing mother, except those of her eldest son, who was staring at the floor and fervently praying for a sudden apocalypse. Or a tornado. Even the collapse of the entire building. He was not fussy....

“It is true”, she sighed. “Dear Chuck, he was lovely but so often just... well, not there. Jamie and I.... you know.”

“Oh Lord!” Castiel exclaimed in horror. “Mother!”

“Yes”, the solicitor said. “Monseigneur Castiel Ferrers is heir to the remainder of the Darkside estate, which at its most recent evaluation last week was forty-one thousand, two hundred and eighteen pounds, thirteen shillings and sevenpence." He paused before adding, somewhat unnecessarily "and three farthings.”

“This is an outrage!” Lady Lilith screamed. “You will be hearing from my lawyers!”

She stood up, banged the very solid table (and winced), then sailed from the room, her husband scurrying along behind her. They could still hear her angry voice as her carriage pulled away.

“Well”, the solicitor said, “I cannot say that that was unexpected. Although it is a pity that she left so soon.”

“Why?” Charlie asked.

“Lady Amara rather foresaw such a reaction”, he said, “which was why there was one additional part that Lord Raphael and his good lady wife did not stay to hear. When I inform them later, it will doubtless raise their ire still further - assuming such a thing is possible. Should anyone challenge the validity of the will, then that person must lay down a bond of some three thousand pounds sterling, which is to be matched by the estate. Upon conclusion of the case – and as I tried to explain to her, Lady Lilith's chances of success are virtually nil since Mr. Castiel here is the named beneficiary – then the losing side has to hand their deposit to the winning one.”

“Oh dear”, Charlie said. “How terrible.”

Dorothy sniggered at the insincerity in her friend's voice.

“So, I am rich”, Castiel mused. “Well, well. I think that I shall go to Piccadilly and buy myself a nice box of expensive chocolates.”

“You could probably buy the shop”, Charlie said. 

“Or you could buy a pie-shop?” Dean said hopefully. Castiel just looked at him.

“Do not ever change”, he said, a soft smile creasing his features. “And of course I shall be buying pie for you....”

“Yes!”

“After I have had a few words with my mother!” Castiel said loudly.

Mrs. Dashwood was most of the way to the door, but froze at these words. She turned, looking hopefully at her eldest son.

“Now Castiel.... darling heart....”

“Oh but this should be good”, Charlie grinned, pulling her chair back and stretching herself out. “Are there any snacks?”

+~+~+

Two days later, Castiel was sat at the window of Middleton House staring out onto the square when he saw Adam Milligan and Samandriel returning to the house. He was so focussed on the young men that for once he failed to hear his husband come up behind him, and jumped when he heard Dean's voice.

“I was not joking about the pie-shop.”

His smile gave him away. Castiel relaxed against the alpha's taller figure. The front door sounded, and moments later Samandriel stuck his head around the door.

“Can I come in?” he asked. 

“I am still just your brother”, Castiel smiled. “Maybe a little richer than a few days ago, perhaps.”

“I ran into Connie – Lady Lilith's maid – in the park”, the young omega said. “She told me that her mistress went round to four separate legal firms yesterday, and that they all gave her the same advice. The whole house heard just how annoyed she was, especially when she learnt about the deposit rule, and the maids had to sweep up several broken vases.”

“She will not contest the will”, Dean said confidently. “Three thousand is three thousand, and she watches every penny.”

“I did pick up something else rather interesting, though”, Samandriel said. “Uriel is to be formally presented at the first ball, and Lady Lilith has hopes that he will catch the eye of Miss Christina Chambers.”

“Who is she?” Dean asked.

“A distant cousin of the Regent, so I heard”, Samandriel said. “There was something of a fuss because Uriel had already been presented at a local ball some two years back, but Lord Raphael managed to arrange something.”

“How much?” Dean coughed into his hand. He yelped when Castiel prodded him again.

“Hey! Abuse of a defenceless alpha!”

“It would be a great match for Lady Lilith”, Samandriel said. “Though I pity the poor girl.”

Dean yelped indignantly as he got prodded a third time.

“What was that for?” he demanded. “It was your brother who made the sarcastic comment!”

“Yes”, Castiel said, “but you were nearer.”

Dean pouted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel Ferrers' inheritance would equate to roughly £50,000,000 ($65,000,000) at 2017 figures, probably much more as it was partly invested in London property. It would have made him one of the richest men in England, and almost certainly the richest omega. Of course the money was legally all Dean's, but the alpha valued his body parts enough not to mention that fact, for which decision his body parts gave grateful thanks!


	4. Cushioning The Blow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4\. The first ball takes place. Someone gets a slap in the face, but they are the lucky ones as someone else gets a bullet in the..... well, if it had not been fatal, they would not have had any more children. Samandriel discovers a time lord, Castiel discovers that being super-rich does have certain advantages, and Dean discovers that soft furnishings can have their uses. And that he hates his family.

It was the day before the first ball. Castiel had received a letter from Mr. Wyndham informing him that Lady Lilith had, very reluctantly, decided not to contest the will. Castiel would see his half-brother's wife at the ball the next day, and was resolved not to gloat in any way, shape or form.

He was toying with the idea of a diamond-headed walking stick when his husband limped into the room and face-planted onto the couch. The omega grinned.

“You broke me!” his husband whined. “I am ruined!”

“Certainly as far as any other potential mate would go, I hope”, Castiel said. Adam had joked the other day that Castiel could buy himself an alpha for every day of the year, and Dean's distress at that had been palpable. The beta had had to flee the house as Castiel had felt compelled to reassure Dean just how much he moved him. Right there in the lounge, on the very couch that Dean had just collapsed onto. Then again on the stairs, and in their room. And once more this morning.

Twice more, actually.

“I have to make nice to all sorts of society bigwigs tomorrow”, Dean grumbled. “And every one of them will be asking me how it feels to be so rich.”

Castiel smiled. He already had some plans for the money, but he had not shared them with his husband as of yet.

“I thought that we might go for a walk this morning”, he said airily. Dean looked up blearily at him.

“Walk?” he muttered. “Like, moving? One foot in front of the other?”

“Fresh air would do us both good”, Castiel said with a smile. “Healthy exercise and all that.”

Dean just grunted and burrowed even deeper into the couch. Castiel was not at all surprised when he heard the sound of gentle snores a few moments later. Nand not at all proud of himself.

All right, maybe he was just a little bit proud of himself.

All right, he was Prince Proud of Prideland!

+~+~+

“You know how some people improve as they grow up and mature?” Dean asked.

They were standing in a huge room, having just been presented to the Prince of Wales. Dean had quipped that the man had entered through the garden door because he was too wide for a regular door-frame; Castiel had prodded him for his rudeness but not disagreed. In front of them, Lord Raphael and Lady Lilith were being presented to the prince.

“And poor Uriel has not”, Castiel finished, noting how his relative was waiting to be introduced. “Indeed, he seems to be living life much the same as the prince, judging from that waist-line.”

“If I said something like that, you would clobber me”, Dean pointed out.

“Yes.”

The alpha pouted. As they watched, an attractive young lady drew up to the prince's side.

“That is Miss Christina Chambers”, Castiel said. “She is distantly related to the prince through his mother's side of the family, although I understand that her own mother was born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

Dean grinned. “You mean that she is a....”

Castiel silenced him with a Look. Adam, who had just come across to join them, grinned at his half-brother's discomfiture.

“You must show me how to do that”, he said. Dean glared at him.

Castiel watched as Uriel Dashwood was presented to the prince, and then bowed to Miss Chambers. He reached forward and said something to her.

The sound of the slap echoed around the room.

“Oops!” Dean grinned. Lady Lilith looked mortified, and quickly bustled her son away from the room, her husband having the good sense (or at least enough self-preservation) to scurry after her.

“Well, Lady Lilith wished for Uriel to make his mark on society”, Dean smiled. “Although it rather looks as if it was society that made its mark on him!”

It was damnably unfair of the others to groan at him like that!

+~+~+

As only Castiel and Dean were to attend the second ball as Sir Robert Middleton's representatives, Samandriel was one of what seemed like a whole crowd of young people being presented at tonight's ball.

“It seems that you have already attracted the attentions of one alpha”, Castiel observed to his younger brother. Samandriel looked at him in surprise.

“Who?” he asked. “I have spoken to no-one.”

“Do not be obvious and stare, but over by the grandfather clock in the corner. The tall alpha in black with the slicked back hair. I believe he thinks that what they call a pony-tail is now fashionable for males.”

Samandriel scowled. He was facing directly away from that area, so could hardly turn round without being obvious.

“Do you know who he is?” he asked.

Castiel beckoned Charlie over, and asked her. Of course she knew.

“Oh Alfie!” she said with a sigh. “You do know how to pick them!”

“I have not even seen the man yet!” the omega complained. “How can I...?”

“That is Mr. Chronos Dorrington”, Charlie told them. “He runs the clock-manufacturing business of the same name, and has a huge factory somewhere in the east of the city.”

“He sounds acceptable”, Castiel said. “Is there something about him that is strange in some way?”

Charlie sighed.

“You both know how society works”, she said. “He - Mr. Chronos - is fine. But he shares the business with his twin brother Kairos, who openly lives with another alpha, a Mr. Aaron Bass, in the city. You know how some people react to that.”

“He is very handsome”, Castiel said, smiling slightly. His brother scowled.

“I really think you are both quite.....”

“Excuse me?”

Samandriel spun round so fast that he almost fell off his chair. The distant alpha was right behind him. The omega blushed fiercely.

“I am Mr. Chronos Dorrington”, the young alpha said. He was in his early twenties, and close examination showed his eyes to be dark brown. “I believe that you are the Mr. Samandriel Dashwood who was just presented?”

“Yes?”

Both Castiel and Charlie had to work hard not to smile at the young Dashwood's suddenly high-pitched voice.

“May I have this dance?” the alpha asked.

“Yes? Uh, I mean yes!”

Castiel and Charlie had to put up with a scowl as they very publicly shook hands whilst Samandriel danced with his new partner. But it was worth it.

+~+~+

The following day, Castiel sent Dean out to get him some chocolates for a sudden craving he had acquired. In truth he just wanted some time to speak with Adam Milligan, who along with Charlie, Dorothy, Samandriel and Mrs. Dashwood was staying in a separate part of the house. Not that Dean would have acted on his increasingly possessive urges against any of them, but Castiel knew that his alpha became distressed when anyone got too near his mate.

His alpha's half-brother shuffled his feet nervously before him.

“I observed that you seemed to spend some little time in conversation with Miss Chambers at the ball last night”, the omega said. The beta blushed fiercely.

“We share a common cause in dubious blood lines”, he muttered, fixing the carpet with a firm stare. “She is very nice, but of course nothing can come of it.”

“Why not?” Castiel asked.

“Pardon?”

“Why not?” the omega repeated. “The Regent is hardly likely to interest himself in her future husband – unless, I suppose, he were to happen to own a cake factory - and the two of you seemed happy together.”

“I have nothing”, Adam said simply.

“That is not true.”

“Pardon?”

“You are the brother of one of the richest men in the country”, Castiel reminded him. “Of course it is legally my money, but we know that everyone in England will see it as Dean's. And that means that when you do choose a wife or mate, the two of us will see you comfortably settled.”

Adam looked at him incredulously. Castiel felt a little sorry for the young man; he had not had the easiest of starts to his life, and like his beloved Dean, seemed to find it hard to believe that good things might happen to him personally.

“You would?” he said querulously.

“I am surprised that you would doubt it”, Castiel said firmly. “One of the good things about having money is.... oh.”

“What is it?” Adam asked anxiously.

“Dean is returning”., Castiel said. “In the circumstances.....”

The beta was already leaving the room, though he managed to call out a 'thank you' over his shoulder as he made haste back to his own rooms. Castiel followed him and went to the lounge, to prevent his husband from detecting a rival scent. 

Dean burst into the room barely seconds after Castiel had got settled. He waved a newspaper frantically at him.

“You will never guess what has happened!” he all but shouted.

“I will not”, Castiel agreed, “but as you are about to tell me, I do not need to.”

Dean pouted.

“And do not so that”, Castiel said reprovingly, “or tonight there will be.... Consequences.”

It always gave the omega great pleasure to see his alpha tremble like that. And there had definitely been a small whine thrown in as well.

“Someone tried to break into Miss Chambers' private rooms last night”, Dean said, recovering. “Fortunately she had two armed footmen in the house with her, and one of them shot at the man. They hit him.... um, down below. He fled but was caught, and the papers say that he died of blood loss under an hour later.”

“That is awful”, Castiel sympathized. “Who would do such a terrible thing?”

Dean just stared at him, and slowly Castiel realized. Dean read from his newspaper.

“'The dead man was identified as one Mr. Balthazar Willoughby of London, late of His Majesty's Army'”, the alpha read. He looked at Cas before continuing. “There is more. It says that he had, over the past two years, spent his way through his new wife's fortune, and that she was now living in a paupers' house. Evidently he was seeking a new source of income.”

“Then he got his just desserts”, Castiel said shortly. “We must rescue her.”

“Eh?” Dean asked, confused. “Rescue who?”

“Poor Miss Grey, of course”, Castiel said. “It is not her fault that she was married to such a disreputable scoundrel, who could so easily have become my own brother-in-law. Does the paper list her address?”

“No”, Dean said, still surprised, “but I am sure that I could find it out. Bobby gave me a useful contact in the government whom he said I could call on if needed.”

“Please do”, Castiel said. “And where are my chocolates?”

Dean looked down at his empty hands, and blushed.

“Ah.”

Castiel fixed him with a Look.

“I am Displeased”, he said, again enjoying the alpha's face paling rather more than he really should have done. “Go and find Miss Grey's location, and then bring me some chocolates.”

“Yes, sir!”

Dean saluted as he left the room. Castiel smiled. The alpha would pay for that later......

+~+~+

Dean was not sure how, but it seemed that the ground floor of Middleton House was a lot further away than it had been the night before. And his body ached all over, especially....

He yelped in pain. Apparently even thinking about it made it painful. His eyes watered as he pulled on a dressing-gown and trudged heavily towards the door. 

The stairs were also a lot steeper than the night before. Hell, every step hurt! His mate had chosen not to overlook his Displeasure at the lack of chocolates, let alone the salute, and it had been just Dean's luck that Bobby's friend in government had not been able to save his arse – literally, in this case – by locating Miss Grey that evening, although he had promised results by today. And why was the sun so damnably bright?

Groaning, he pushed open the door to the dining-room – and froze. Now that was just downright unfair! Everyone was there; Charlie, Dorothy, Adam, Castiel's mother and brother, and the insatiable omega himself at one end of the table, trying (and failing) to look not smug. 

“We saved you a chair!” Charlie said, far too loudly.

Dean scowled at her, but limped forward to his end of the table. His chair was there, and someone (almost certainly someone with impossible hair) had placed a large pink cushion on it. It was ghastly but, the alpha had to admit, probably necessary.

All eyes were on him as he very slowly lowered himself, with certain body parts denoting their displeasure at even the cushioned surface. 

“So”, Adam smiled. “I thought we could both go for a run around the square later?”

Charlie and Dorothy promptly fell about laughing, whilst Mrs. Dashwood snorted into her handkerchief. Castiel kept a commendably straight face, although his husband knew that he was enjoying this as much as everyone else.

“I hate you all”, he muttered. “Just so as you know.”

+~+~+

The morning mail brought good news, and Castiel was almost inclined to go upstairs and wake the alpha who had been allowed to go back to bed and recover for the second ball that evening. Almost. He was not (quite) that cruel.

Bobby's government friend had come through for them. It appeared that the newspaper story had been an exaggeration, and that poor Miss Grey – Mrs. Willoughby, Castiel supposed he should call her - had merely gone to stay with a friend after the death of her husband. Unfortunately the depth of her problems was otherwise quite accurate; Willoughby had spent all but a thousand of her once substantial wealth, and that had only been spared because it had been tied up in American investments that were inaccessible due to the international situation. And worse, as a ward she had no family left.

Castiel resolved that he would stand by this poor lady. Had things transpired differently, it may even have been that Willoughby might have married Gabriel, and it would now be his brother in this ghastly situation. The lady had suffered enough; Castiel would find some way of helping her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'international situation' was that the United Kingdom and United States were a year away from conflict (War of 1812), over the former's determination to blockade French-controlled Europe and the latter's equal determination to trade with France.


	5. Lords, Lets And Leave-Takings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5\. The second ball takes place, and the relationship between Adam Milligan and Lady Christina Chambers progresses well. Castiel finds a way of helping the impoverished Miss Grey, Samandriel gets courted, and the party returns to Devonshire, where the by-election campaign is in full swing. And someone goes a bit too far when it comes to family.

As a general rule, Monseigneur Castiel Ferrers had no compunction about going out on his own, but he knew full well that his husband would become distressed if his pregnant mate was out of his sight for any length of time. So after allowing Dean to sleep in all morning and have a late luncheon, he took the alpha with him that afternoon to visit the home of Mr. Garston Sawyer, the beta with whom Miss Grey was staying. It was well that he did.

They arrived to find the home owner being talked at by two men, both of whom it soon became clear were owed money by the late and un-lamented Balthazar Willoughby. When Castiel assured them that they would get their money once their bills and proof of debt had been forwarded to Middleton House, they looked at him incredulously – until Dean pinned one of them up against a wall and snarled at him, whereupon they suddenly became rather more amenable. 

Castiel assured Mr. Sawyer, who it turned out was a bank clerk, that all such further claims should be forwarded to his house, and the claimants told that whilst some might have to then be sent onto Devonshire once the couple left London, the traders would get their moneys owed once proofs were provided. It only needed a short time to also ascertain that Mr. Sawyer had once been considered a courtier for Miss Grey's hand, until her acquisition of wealth had ruled him out of consideration. Castiel assured both of them that, as someone who had also been associated with Willoughby, he would provide whatever support Miss Grey needed. She only had to ask.

The couple returned to Middleton House where Castiel, being a good omega, did not comment on the fact that Dean had been almost constantly growling at poor Mr. Sawyer throughout their whole time together. The knowing smirk was bad enough.

+~+~+

“What are you smiling at?” Dean asked. They were at the second ball, a much more exclusive affair than the first, and it was actually not unpleasant. They were even serving small slices of pie, or rather they had been earlier in the evening. 'Someone' had eaten them all.

“Adam and Miss Chambers”, Castiel smiled, gesturing to the young couple who were dancing together. Adam had received a personal invite from her, couriered round by a royal footman that morning; Dean had wanted to tease him about it but Castiel had forbidden it. “And the article I read in the Times before we came here.”

“About what?” Dean asked.

“The sudden departure from London of Lord Raphael Dashwood and his wife”, Castiel grinned. “A 'family emergency' called them home to Sussex.”

“Absolutely nothing to do with them being disinvited tonight, of course”, Dean scoffed.

“Perish the thought!”

Castiel smiled at his alpha, and accepted a kiss from him. He felt perhaps a little guilty in keeping the newspaper from Dean, because there had been a second article in it that he knew his husband would not be so happy about. Better to enjoy tonight, quit London as soon as possible, and make the journey home without Dean being concerned or angry about the events which were unfolding back in Devonshire. Besides, Castiel knew full well that as a pregnant omega, he only had to look piteously at his alpha for all Dean's anger to disappear at once.

Although maybe this time, Dean might be allowed to be angry.

+~+~+

They had one more day in London before their departure back to Devonshire, and Castiel was not at all surprised that his mother burst into the lounge that morning in even more of a flutter than usual.

“He is here!” she said, as if Castiel would immediately know who 'he' was. Fortunately knowing what he did about his brother's 'accidental' meeting with someone yesterday evening, he did.

“Lord Chronos Dorrington?” Castiel asked.

“Yes!” she said. “I am sure he is going to ask for dear Alfie's hand in marriage. I cannot believe it!”

“They only met two days ago, mama”, Castiel pointed out, narrowly avoiding rolling his eyes. “He is more likely here to ask formal permission to court him. Alfie is only just come of age, remember.”

“Will you see him?” she asked. “I really cannot cope with all this.”

Socially speaking, what she was asking was questionable. With Lord Charles dead, any requests to court his sons would normally have been dealt with by first any alpha or beta siblings, and then by his widow. Omega brothers were not supposed to get involved. But, Castiel supposed, since news of his inheritance was still in the papers (did they not know there was a war going on?), he supposed it was better for him to see the young alpha. 

“Send Dean and Alfie to me”, he said, “and once they are here we will all see him.”

+~+~+

Apart from Dean's constant low-level growling (which he had vehemently denied doing), the meeting with Lord Dorrington had gone well. As Castiel had thought, he was merely seeking permission to court Samandriel, although the elder Dashwood had already detected a subtle shift in his brother's scent. They had not the True Mates match that he and Dean were blest with, but their relationship was only going to end one way.

Lord Dorrington was allowed to take Samandriel out to dinner, and Castiel took his alpha to the bedroom to allow him to work out his defensive anger. They had nothing special planned for that day, and the omega infinitely preferred the sight of his alpha lying broken and exhausted to anything London had to offer.

+~+~+

Castiel had not been surprised that, as they had readied themselves for their departure the following morning, there had been a letter from Bobby. He had handed it to one of the servants with instructions to forward it to Devonshire in a couple of days' time. So unreliable, the postal service these days.

The journey home was accomplished uneventfully, although Castiel was sure that he was now far bigger as he all but waddled into their home. Their home for now; as the owner of Darkside he and Dean could move there now. But Castiel quite liked the cottage, and he had never liked Norland Park in his time at the great house. Or he could rebuild Darkside. He had the money, certainly.

+~+~+

Despite everyone always saying how slow things were in the countryside, Castiel was not the least but surprised when Dean came in from his walk the next day positively fuming with rage.

“I do not believe it!” he grumbled. “Sammy has been going round telling everyone that you and I are supporting his candidacy for the seat. It has even been in the newspaper!”

“I am shocked!” Castiel sympathized, covertly crossing his fingers under his blanket. “You made it quite clear to him that we would remain neutral in the matter, given your friendship with Philoctetes.”

“Bobby says he sent me a letter in London, but we must have just missed it”, Dean lamented. “If it turns up here in a few days' time, I shall not be pleased.”

Castiel hesitated before breaching the subject he wanted to talk about.

“I am not sure what to do about Darkside”, he said, looking carefully for his husband's reaction. His nervousness must have transmitted itself to his alpha, because Dean was at once on the couch with him, wrapping his arms around him.

“What do you want, Cas?” he asked quietly.

“I shall have to change things around before moving in”, the omega said. “Having that little building work done to this place whilst we were here was bad enough. I thought perhaps we might find a tenant for the place during the changes, as they will take several years if one includes all the planning. Perhaps someone like your friend?”

Dean looked at him for a moment, then a slow smile creased his handsome features.

“Phil has been looking for a large house in the area, should he get elected”, he grinned. “And if the local newspapers should find out that we... I mean you are renting Darkside to him, well, they would assume.....”

He trailed off. Castiel grinned back at him.

“Exactly!” he said.

+~+~+

“Do not say it!”

Castiel smiled innocently at his fellow omega.

“I have no idea as to what you are referring”, he said.

“You know”, Inias sighed. 'Fitz is visiting Sir Robert tomorrow to make a formal request for my hand.”

Castiel was happy for his friend. He had known from the moment Inias had arrived that something had happened; his keen omega nose had detected the shift in his scent, just like that of his brother.

“Have you told anyone else?” Castiel asked.

“Only Crowley”, Inias said. “Like you, he knew as an omega. But he has promised not to say anything to Bobby until Fitz makes the formal request.”

“And have you met his family yet?” Castiel asked. His friend shook his head.

“That is all a little difficult”, he said. “Because Fitz was born on the wrong side of the blanket – how I hate that euphemism! - they do not wish to be seen as condoning such things, yet because he is so close to the title, they had to acknowledge it. He told me that his father will be sending his – Fitz's – sister down to represent the family at the wedding. It is better than we had both hoped.”

“Will you have to move to Westmorland?” Castiel asked anxiously. 

He was relieved when his friend shook his head.

“The family are not that keen on us that they want us twenty rather than two hundred miles away”, he smiled. “Besides, Fitz quite likes this area, and the wedding-gift his father is prepared to settle on him, plus my poor offerings, will be enough for us to live on. And Bobby has said that when his steward retires in a few years' time, Fitz could be offered the post.”

“At least the man does not have to cope with the menace that was Rowena Shepherd”, Castiel smiled. “Although I am sure that many men in the valley miss her 'individuality'.”

Inias smiled at that. Mrs. Shepherd had gone to work at a hospital for injured soldiers up in Bristol. Castiel was glad to see all that energy being put to such a worthy cause.

“So”, Castiel grinned. “What is he really like, your 'Fitz'?”

His friend blushed. Castiel was pleased to see him so happy.

+~+~+

The visit of Mr. Samuel Ferrers to the house the following day did not go so well. The younger alpha shouted at his brother for what he regarded as his 'betrayal', then shouted at Castiel for much the same. The omega whined piteously for his alpha, and Mr. Samuel exited the house a lot quicker than he had entered it, pursued by one furious sibling. It was an utterly amazing coincidence that a writer from the local newspaper just happened to be passing the cottage at exactly that precise moment. With witnesses.

The headlines the following day were.... interesting.

+~+~+

The main advantage of having so small an electorate was that voting did not take long. The vote was held at Barton Park, and Sir Robert himself stood at the table with the ballot box and made it palpably clear to both candidates that no-one was to say anything to the voters before they cast their votes – most unusually in secret – and he himself crossed the names off as people voted. Impressively all sixty-eight eligible voters turned up, after which Bobby declared the election over and invited the Returning Officer to count the votes. This did not take long, and soon both Mr. Samuel Ferrers and Mr. Philoctetes Steele were being bade over to hear their fates. It did not need a genius to work out from their faces what the result had been.

The Returning Officer stood forward:  
“I, the Returning Officer for the Constituency of Three Bartons, hereby give notice that the total number of votes cast for each candidate was as follows:  
Mr. Samuel Ferrers, Tory Party, thirty-one votes.  
Mr. Philoctetes Steele, Whig Party, thirty-seven votes.  
I hereby give notice that Mr. Philoctetes Steele is elected to serve as the member for this constituency.”

There was a smattering of polite applause, and the new member stepped forward and said exactly the right thing to endear him to his new constituents:

“I won. Show's over. Let's get stuck into the free food.”

That won him the biggest cheer of the day.

+~+~+

“Your brother did not take his defeat well”, Castiel observed when they were lying together later that evening . “And where were you at the announcement. It is not like you to miss free food?”

Dean huffed indignantly.

“I was just getting some fresh air”, he protested.

Castiel just looked at him. Dean held out for an impressive seven and a half seconds.

“How do you do that?” he grumbled. “All right, I was putting itching powder in his barouche that he's so proud of.”

“Dean, that was very naughty”, Castiel said reprovingly. “You are childish at times.”

The alpha smirked.

“Want to see just how much of an adult I really am?” he teased, making as if to lower his trousers.

Then he caught the look on his mate's face, and gulped. 

“Oh yes!” Castiel growled. “As of now!”

+~+~+

As with their first day in the cottage, it really was a very good thing that their humble abode was so isolated......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creating new constituencies had been an easy way for past monarchs to control parliament, by placing them in areas where they or their close supporters owned lands. That was why the two south-western counties, Devonshire and Cornwall, were so vastly over-represented in parliament, as the royal Duchy of Cornwall had most of its lands there. Secret ballots were not made law until the 1872 Ballot Act. Although they were fairer, they also helped bring about the break-up of the country; Catholic Irish voters, no longer able to be intimidated by their Protestant landlords, cast their votes increasingly for candidates who supported independence, which led to the creation of the Irish Free State after the First World War.


	6. Twenty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6\. It is December, 1811, and with the inheritance all sorted out, Castiel and Dean have begun their (the omega's) pans for the improvements at Darkside. Three months back Gabriel Brandon successfully gave birth to an alpha, Luke, which means that it is now someone else's turn. There is screaming, swearing, unbearable pain, and finally a blessed release. Castiel finds it difficult, too.

Because Dean had been so helpful in getting his mate's room set up for the forthcoming Big Event, Castiel had generously allowed him a second slice of pie for dessert. Dean was preparing it as said mate read the “Times”.

“I see that the National Society for Promoting the Education of the Poor in the Principles of the Established Church in England and Wales is doing well”, the omega observed.

“The what?” Dean asked distractedly. His mate did not like him talking with his mouth full, and the last time he had done so, there had been no pie for a week. Dark times indeed.

“An organization for free schools for the poor”, Castiel said. “They need work on their title, but their aims are laudable enough.”

“Very true.”

Dean had almost got the custard on the pie when his mate spoke again.

“There have been more Luddite risings in the North.”

The alpha did not roll his eyes – the last time that had happened had resulted in his mate doing something that made Dean blush every time he saw the hairbrush – and looked hopefully at his still warm pie.

“Idiots, smashing machinery like that”, he said. “They cannot stop progress.”

Castiel was silent for a while, and Dean got the first spoonful of delicious pie almost to his mouth before the omega spoke again. 

“Dean?”

In the dark recesses of his mind (where, he hoped, even his mind-reading mate could not venture), Dean thought a Bad Word.

“Yes?”

“I think it is time.”

“Time for what?” Dean asked, confused.

“Time for a baby.”

+~+~+

It was only because Castiel was the best mate in the whole wide world that he waited until Dean had sent a servant for Pamela Barnes and had led him to his room for the birthing that he spoke.

“Dean?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I want you to do something for me.”

The omega could see the moment when his husband feared the worst. Childbirth was still a dangerous time, especially for omegas, and there was no guarantee that he would survive the coming hours. Although his odds were considerably better than they would have been not so many decades ago.

“Anything, my love.”

“Finish your pie.”

“But....”

“You will need the energy”, Castiel said sagely. “We do not want a repeat of last time, do we?”

Dean blushed.

+~+~+

Pamela Barnes looked pleased after her initial check on her patient.

“Everything in place”, she said, “and I reckon a birth before this time tomorrow. You are becoming an old hand at this, Castiel.”

“Providing someone does not faint like last time”, Castiel said pointedly. “Ow!”

Pamela felt his stomach and nodded.

“One of them just tried to push against the other”, she said.

“One of them?” Dean echoed, shocked. She nodded.

“Of course”, she said. “Twins.”

“But why did you not tell us?” Dean demanded.

“To spare us both the stress”, Castiel guessed. The midwife nodded.

“You will be getting enough of that with double the trouble in the coming months”, she said. “Relax, Castiel. All is well.”

+~+~+

“There should not be so much blood!” Dean wailed. “They are not even starting to come out, and there is too much blood!”

Pamela threw a glass of water over him. He stared at her in shock.

“Alphas!” she grumbled. “All machismo and bravado most of the time, then go to pieces every time they see a little of the red stuff. I think number one is ready, Castiel.”

The omega wailed, and gave a further prolonged and alarmingly graphic statement of intent that involved part of his husband's anatomy and a garden implement. Pamela chuckled, and Dean winced. He moved round to get a better view of the proceedings.

“Don't push until I tell you, Castiel”, the midwife warned. “It needs to be at the exact right moment...”

There was a crash from behind her, as body hit the floor.

“As useful as a doorstop!” she snorted. “Three, two, one.... push!”

The scream of profanity that followed surprised even her.

+~+~+

“Fat lot of use you were!”

Dean groaned, and wished that whoever was beating a bass drum inside his head would stop. And why was he staring up at the ceiling?

Oh yes. His omega was giving birth, and he had acted with all the calm, sense and dignified control that one would expect from an alpha....

Somehow the look on Pamela's face suggested that that version of events may not have been one hundred per cent accurate. And why did Charlie and Dorothy have to be there to witness his ever so mild discomfiture? And his mother? Was someone selling tickets?

“Is he awake?” came a male voice. “Because I need some sleep, and I would be grateful if he could shift himself to actually look after our children.”

Wait. Children? Dean levered himself up, wishing the room would stop jumping around like that, and waited for his vision to settle down again so that he could see.

Pamela was staring reprovingly at him, so no change there. The place looked surprisingly clean, considering what had just taken place there, and his mate was sat there holding his newborn son or daughter. And in the chair across from him, his mother was holding.....

Dean's few remaining brain cells finally juddered into life, as he remembered.

“Twins!”

“I did suspect, though I could see why Pamela did not tell us given your 'reaction'”, Castiel yawned. “One son, one daughter. You get to name the son, although we did agree on angel names for both of them.”

“Did we?” Dean asked,

Castiel just gave him a Look. All four women sniggered.

“Oh, um yes, we did”, Dean said quickly, blushing. “Our son” - Castiel slightly held up the baby he was holding - “is to be Diniel, after me.”

“And our daughter”, Castiel said looking to his right, “is to be Mariel, after her grandmother.

“Thank you”, Mary smiled.

“And we are hoping, Charlie, that you and Dorothy will each stand godmother to one of them before you head off to your new home in the Lakes”, Castiel said. 

“Of course”, Charlie promised.

“Now”, Castiel said, yawning again, “I need a nice long nap. I suspect that neither Dean nor I will be getting much sleep over the next few months, and as I just twice pushed something the size of a watermelon through a hole the size of a pea....”

His audience effected a collective wince at that image.

“I need my rest.”

The omega yawned, and Dean hurried forward to kiss his mate and take Diniel from him. The ladies took Mariel with them and left; looking back the alpha could see that Castiel was asleep before they had reached the door. All the dust in the room was making Dean's eyes water. He so loved his omega! He loved him more than anything!

Rather more than his new son, who.... euw!

Castiel smiled in his almost-sleep.

ΩΑΩΑΩΑΩΑΩΑΩΑΩ

And that's all – for now. But the (mis-)adventures of nineteenth century Cas and Dean continue in the next installment of _The Dashwood Inheritance: Warfare And Wanderers_ , where four years into the future a good peace is hard to find, and a hard alpha is... begging for some respite! Or at the very least, some pie! 


End file.
